


Ride

by SuperMechaAkira



Category: Persona 5, Persona Series
Genre: Akira freaks out a lot in this one, Akira has a lot of emotions, Dubious consent in that everything is consensual but not necessarily enjoyable for both parties, Gloryhole, M/M, Other, Persona 5: The Royal Spoilers, Post-Canon, Sex Work, bottom akira, everyone is aged up a few years, happy ending kinda, heed the tags
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-27
Updated: 2020-09-27
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:41:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26674561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuperMechaAkira/pseuds/SuperMechaAkira
Summary: Out of all his part-time jobs, getting paid to suck anonymous dicks through a small hole in the wall is actually far from the worst one. The pay is good, the hours are ideal for a university student, and if Akira gets a little enjoyment out of it himself - well, who’s there to judge him?
Relationships: Akechi Goro/Kurusu Akira, Akechi Goro/Persona 5 Protagonist, heavily implied Kurusu Akira/Takuto Maruki
Comments: 17
Kudos: 109





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> yeah this is basically just akira sucking dick at a gloryhole and having emotions for roughly 3000 words. im not even sorry

Akira grimaces, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He breathes out and stretches his arms for the first time in what must've been an hour - the cramped space of the booth doesn't give him much space, especially with his job requiring him to be bent over at an angle most of the time.

He can't say he minds - out of all his part-time jobs, getting paid to suck anonymous dicks through a small hole in the wall is actually far from the worst one. The pay is good, the hours are ideal for a university student, and if Akira gets a little enjoyment out of it himself - well, who’s there to judge him?

He hears footsteps approaching, the heavy sounds echoing in the tiled room. Despite the allure of his job being completely anonymous, Akira can’t help but try to figure out what little details he can about the person. Old habits die hard, he supposes, and it helps to have at least  _ some  _ basis of what kind of person he’s dealing with so he can be good at his job. He wonders just what being proud of his skills at this says about him, but then a dick is pushing itself through the hole, and oh. Time to snap out of reminiscing and go back to doing what he’s supposed to.

He quickly licks a stripe up his hand, wrapping his fingers around the length and stroking him to hardness. The man’s shoes peek out from beneath the booth - smooth black leather, simple, clean, the hems of black dress pants falling over the ankles. Akira tentatively files him into the “business man looking to blow off steam after work” category and gets down to business. 

He rips open the condom packet and slips it on with annoyed grunt of his customer, and finally, he leans forward and licks a stripe up the shaft. On a certain level, Akira sympathizes - the taste of skin and salt feels so much more satisfying - but he doesn’t want to risk anything, and the cleanup is much easier. He takes his time with licking around the head, almost feeling the impatience emanating from behind the wall, before taking the head into his mouth and closing his eyes.

He evens out his breathing, then sinks down as far as he can go, much to the satisfied moan of the man Things go kind of easy from there - the man doesn’t seem to be hard to please and Akira gets to close his eyes, bob his head up and down rhythmically and zone out. By now, he’s gotten good enough at this that he does it almost automatically - for some people, it takes him a bit of time to figure out what they want, but most people are here just for a quick release and a warm mouth, no fancy techniques needed. Not that Akira doesn’t know plenty of fancy techniques - he knows he’s great at the job he does, as some of the anonymous bar reviews would gladly tell you - but sometimes, simpler is better. 

He picks up his pace a bit, then squeezes his thumb into his palm and sinks all the way down, waiting for a bit before pulling back up and repeating the whole process. Judging by the soft groans of his customer, he knows it’s time to finish. He pulls back and sucks on the head, his hand stroking the man off in quick, gentle strokes. He hears another groan, then the man seems to tense; he feels warm fluid spill from the tip inside his mouth, filling up the condom. He strokes him through it until the man is spent, then wordlessly pulls off the condom and deposits it into the trash bin behind him. When he turns back, the dick is gone, his payment sliding under the stall door. 

Akira stretches again. 

He mostly just browses the internet on his phone in the downtime (unless it’s exam week, in which case he brings his notes and prays that they don’t get stained by any fluids), pointedly ignoring any messages from his friends just so he doesn’t get asked any unnecessary questions about his whereabouts. The music from the club can be heard from behind the doors, the deep bass rhythmically pulsing through thin walls. It’s quiet enough not to be bothersome, but loud enough to make any potential sounds feel less awkward. Sometimes, Akira gets to part-time at the front of the club, but working here pays a better hourly rate and doesn’t leave Akira with a headache from the loud music, so. 

The music gets louder when a door opens- Akira’s next customer, then slips back into the background, another set of footsteps slowly getting closer. They stop right before the wall.. Seconds pass. Akira sees brown, well-worn shoes, wondering if he should speak up. 

“Uh- I’m sorry, I don’t really know how this works…” Akira freezes.

At some point, Akira has had to face the potential of someone coming here who he recognizes. He has mental lists - some names, he wouldn’t mind serving, some names he’d turn away with a note slid under, not a lot of names he’d be willing to reveal himself to. This one isn’t on any of those lists, simply because he didn’t  _ think _ to put it on one. 

He decides to continue not thinking about it. Akira awkwardly slides his hand under the stall wall, making what he hopes is a ‘come here’ motion. 

“Oh! Right, sorry, almost forgot.” The man chuckles nervously, and then a wad of cash is slid under the stall. “Do I just, put it in now?” 

Akira, slightly mortified, wonders if he should try to give the man a thumbs up from under the stall, but luckily his silence is taken for the assent it is and he hears the sound of a belt clicking open and pants dropping on the floor. 

The cock sliding in through the hole is… exceeding Akira’s expectations, slightly, even if he’s only idly thought about it once or twice years back. It’s half-hard already, longer and thicker than the average Akira gets, slightly curved upwards. Oh well. He’s doing this.

It’s just another customer, he tells himself, taking a deep breath as he takes the cock into his hands. If nothing else, at least he’ll get to see if some more of his idle thoughts are true.

He slips the condom on quickly, and-

“Oh, thanks! Safety’s important - I should have probably brought my own, shouldn’t I...” he hears from behind the wall, and can’t reply, and can’t let the other man hear the deep sigh he wants to let out. He’s going to regret this, isn’t he.

He moves in to lick the head and unceremoniously takes it into his mouth, swiping his tongue around it inside his mouth, and finds out he had pegged the man correctly as being very vocal during sex, if the soft moan coming from him is anything to go by. Deep breaths.

He starts bobbing his head enough to get most of the dick wet, but not quite enough to deepthroat - he’s saving that for later. Experimentally, he raises his hand to cup his balls. 

“Ah- that feels really good,” he sinks down, back up again, swirls his tongue around the tip, “but I guess you’re supposed to be- ah- good at this, if you’re doing this kind of job.”

“I wonder, does it feel good for you?” he continues, so Akira sinks down again, deeper this time, gently caresses the man’s balls in between his fingers. He kind of feels like he’s waiting for an answer, despite the pleasured groans. He breathes in, then breathes out the highest pitched “mmhmm” he can muster. 

“Ohhh- I’m glad... I really hope this is enjoyable for, ah- both of us,” Akira kind of wishes he would stop talking. At the same time, he figures he’d be the oversharing type of customer, since the man seems to be the oversharing type of person in general. “I was trying to find a place that makes sure that the workers are, ahh, please, not mistreated - So I- ah- ”

Akira is really glad he’s as good at blowjobs as he is - relaxing his throat and sinking down to the hilt is almost easy by now. He hopes he gets the point across. 

“Ah! Sorry, you probably don’t want me prying into your - ah - personal life, haha. Old psychologist habit, I suppose.” Despite everything, Akira still feels a bit of fondness for the man. He pulls off a little, his hand moving up to gently stroke the rest of his cock. 

“I - I - should probably loosen u-up, a little. Let go of th- the past, which is why I’m here, I supp-oohse, ahhh, that feels good- you are so good at this.” 

Akira would smirk to himself if it weren’t for the cock now slipping completely into his throat. He gently rolls the cab driver’s balls in between his fingers, bobbing his head back and forwards enough to manage a breath before sinking down again. He figures the man wouldn’t be into hearing him choke. 

“A-aah! You’re doing so good...” For a brief, unpleasant moment, Akira wonders how it’d be if the man was actually fucking him. Probably a lot more awkward - like this, Akira can at least compartmentalize and deal with the freakout after he finishes his job. 

“I- ah- I wish I could hold you, aah- you’re making me feel so good, s-so amazing...” Akira knows the signs of someone being close to coming, so he pulls back again, swirls his tongue around the head, then sinks back fully and works his tongue on the underside, all the while fondling the man’s balls.

“I w- I want you to feel good too, I hope you’re - ah, - enjoying yourself - Aaah...” Akira’s really not. It’s not the worst he’d had, but what he really hopes is that he doesn’t accidentally bump into the man in public within the next five to fifty years, ideally. 

“Ah- I’m, - I’m gonna - so good, ah - ah, please, Rumi, please - I’m -”

Finally, Akira feels the man’s come hit the back of his throat through the condom. He slides off a little, holds him inside his mouth until he’s sure the man is done, then pulls off, breathing heavily. He slips off the condom and ties it with shaking hands.

Well, that just happened.

He watches as the dick retracts from the hole, gets slipped back into the man’s boxers. 

“I, um- thanks. For this. I really needed it.” His voice is shaking. Akira feels like he should say something, but knows he can’t. The silence stretches.

“I guess I’m gonna go now. Thanks again!” he hears, and then finally, the sound of the door opening and closing. Akira drops his head against the stall door.

He’s… going to need a while to process this. He realizes he’s still holding the condom in his hand. There’s a bit of cum that’s smeared on his finger. He jolts at the feeling, reaching for the tissues he keeps at hand and wiping it down, cleaning up the mess as fast as possible. He wipes his mouth as well, even though he only feels the aftertaste of latex.

At least, Akira thinks hysterically, out of all the former palace owners, it was this one. Could have been worse. 

His throat is a little sore, but then again, he’s already been here for a while. He should probably call it quits soon - the customers mostly taper off at this time of night, and he should probably go home and sleep it off. 

The door opens. 

Apparently, the universe isn’t going to be merciful to him today. Oh well. Might as well do one more. 

He doesn’t get a good look at the new customer’s shoes, too busy readying himself up, but he doesn’t particularly care to at the moment. He honestly just wants to relax, suck the man’s dick and go home. 

He sees money slide under the stall door and accepts it, waiting. The cock that slips through is one of the nicer ones he has seen, and definitely one of the bigger than average ones. Akira quickly strokes it into hardness, then slips the condom on and gets to work. 

He doesn’t want to take his time with this, so he opens his mouth and lets the dick slight right in with a slick sound. He manages to go about halfway in without having to suppress his gag reflex, takes the other half in hand and begins stroking.

He settles on a comfortable rhythm of bobbing his head and stroking that should feel nice to the customer. The customer seems to be quiet, letting the sounds of Akira’s movements echo in the room, the muted music providing a backdrop. Huh. 

Akira decides to try a bit harder. He sinks down fully, almost choking, working his throat around the intrusion for a few seconds, pulls back. He hears the quietest of sighs through the wall.

He supposes he’s just a quiet type of person - he gets those sometimes - and goes back to bobbing his head, with a bit more feeling this time, circling his tongue around the head every now and then in between strokes. The man twitches slightly, so Akira knows he’s on a good path.

“Can I fuck your mouth?”

Akira freezes. The voice is, it’s calm and soft, but more importantly, he  _ recognizes it _ .  _ He thought he was dead, he- he knew that if he was alive, he’d need time, he’d been hoping, but _ \- no. Maybe it just sounds like him. He can’t get his hopes up, especially not in this situation. He’ll get it over with, go home, and he can think about it then.

“I’m sorry, forget it. It’s fine, you don’t have to.” It sounds undeniably like him. Akira still hasn’t moved. He should probably reply. He pulls off, still holding the dick in his hand.

“No, go ahead.” he says, voice rough. He swears he hears a soft gasp from the other side. He relaxes his jaw, breathes in, and sinks back down to the base. He isn’t going to think about this. 

Turns out, he doesn’t have to think at all. He relaxes his throat, leans in almost to the rim of the hole and closes his eyes. The cock starts sliding in and out of his mouth, slowly at first, then speeding up until all Akira can do is hold still and try not to choke.

It’s almost a relief - he does enjoy doing the work, but letting go and letting himself be used like this just feels good, relaxing. He kind of wishes there was a hand in his hair, pulling it. Thoughtlessly, he reaches up and pulls at his hair.

The deep thrusts alternate with shallow ones to give him breathing space, even if he does enjoy the light feeling of not quite getting enough oxygen, and Akira realizes he’s growing hard in his underwear. A small moan escapes him, prompting the man to shove himself deeper.

The thought of it being Akechi who’s treating him like this- roughly, yet with care, is almost too much for him. He’s too far gone to feel bad, or good, or anything else besides the dick in his mouth and the growing hardness in his underwear. Mindlessly, he reaches into his pants, starts stroking. He doesn’t need to think right now. Just this once, he can indulge.

He starts feeling lightheaded from trying to regulate his breathing, his mouth growing sore from being forced open, but he feels - subdued. Muted. Warm. God, he hasn’t gotten fucked properly in so long.

He hears the man’s ragged breathing through the wall- he must be getting close. Akira feels like he’s getting close too. The thrusts speed up, and Akira adjusts, strokes himself faster, his eyes rolling back.

“Fuck. I’m- ” he hears Akechi’s voice hiss, and he swallows on the next thrust, frantically stroking himself as the cock gets buried deep into his throat, choking him. 

It feels like he’s frozen in space for a second, in the dizzying combination of exhaustion, disbelief and arousal. He keeps stroking himself off even as the dick starts pulling out of his mouth, giving it a last lick and having to stop from chasing after it. His cheeks are wet - he didn’t know when he started crying.

He gasps, feeling himself get close - He shuts his eyes, and lets go. 

“Goro...” he can’t help but whisper, and then realizes the situation he’s in. He wants to- open the door, but he knows he shouldn’t, can’t - he hears footsteps rapidly leaving. 

He paws at the lock of the stall, gets it open, almost falls through the door. The last thing he sees before the door to the club gets shut is gloved fingers on the handle. 

Oh.

He thinks he should probably maybe chase after him, but his legs feel like they’re made of jelly. He compartmentalizes. Cleanup first. He wipes the cum on his dick - he can change his underwear once he gets home. He wipes the snot and saliva that leaked out of his mouth. He doesn’t wipe the tears, because they still seem to be falling. He gets dressed the rest of the way, throws all his items into a bag. 

He feels calmer now. He gets up, legs hurting from kneeling for so long, walks out, leaves the stall door open. He checks for anything he might have left- sees a tied off condom. Ah.

He gets a brief thought of keeping it, then decides that would be too creepy, and would probably start smelling weird within a few days. He throws it into a trashcan. It’s still wet with his saliva.

He leaves the club, giving the bar manager a smile and a wave on his way out. He barely remembers the rest of the train ride home, immediately falling into bed.

He’ll process things tomorrow. Today, he’ll just rest.


	2. addendum

He doesn’t know why he decided to go to the jazz club. Nostalgia, maybe. Fond memories laced with bitterness that has dissipated over the few years he hasn’t visited. He feels like he needs to reminisce for a few, maybe. He sits at the empty table - the usual spot, sipping on his drink, watching the singer softly sing through a song he barely remembers. He hasn’t had time to relax like this in a while. 

Yesterday was… eventful. He still isn’t sure if he wants to think about it. It’s been a few years since something like this happened to him. It’s been an awfuly uneventful few years. Some parts, he’s glad he left behind. Some parts - some people, one person - he kind of wishes was back.

He finishes his drink early. He works early shift at the flowershop tomorrow. He gets up to leave. As nice as drowning in memories and alcohol is, his life needs to go on. Mona mostly leaves him alone when he goes alone at night nowadays, but he still gets pissy when he comes in too late to get enough sleep before his next day.

He sees him the moment he opens the exit to the bar, both of them opening the door at the exact same moment. 

Akechi’s hair is longer, tied into a ponytail. His coat is black, more casual than anything Akira’s seen him wear years ago, but still fashionable. Still taking Akira’s breath away, a little. 

They stare, for a few seconds. Akira doesn’t know what to say.  _ I think I sucked your dick last night _ just doesn’t seem like a good opening line. Akechi seems to be in a same situation, his mouth open like he wants to say something. 

Akira decides to not think, and wraps Akechi in a desperate hug. He knows it’s a bad choice - Akechi didn’t seem to like being touched - but hey, they haven’t seen each other in years. Akira can be a little selfish. He’s surprised when he feels Akechi’s hands wrapping around him just as tightly.

“Ow.” Akechi says, and Akira realizes they’re standing in the doorway, the door, unsupported by either of them, hitting Akechi in the back. He lets go, reluctantly, and walks back inside, Akechi wordlessly following him. Mona can be mad at him later.

Akira doesn’t know if they’re gonna talk. He doesn’t mind if they’re gonna talk- he’ll wait for when Akechi feels ready for it. For now, he’s content to sip at his drink, his knee bumping into Akechi’s under the table, both of them equally anxious and happy. They can talk later. For now, just letting go and being is more than enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hhnnngh i'm a thirsty little writer you need to water me you need to use your comments


End file.
